Healing Scars
by GadgetGeek23
Summary: She is his first friend. She made him understand what life is for. He wants to meet her again, but he doen't even know what her name is. My first fanfic, be nice and please review


The fire bickered, flickering unstably on its place. The illumination of dim orange hue from the fire reflected to the small room, making it surrounded by such warmth and intensity and so as Augusta's heart. Her heart was full of serenity, despair and a hurtful tragedy—a tragedy that was kept personal deep within herself, scarred with both revenge and vengeance. It remained unforgotten and will always forever be part of her memory even after the inhalation of her last breath. The noxious past had haunted her ever since and even caused her behaved hysterically, but then she realised, something far more important needs her and vice versa—she had Neville.

She closed her eyes, immersed in her own thoughts. _It was the night when Frank and Alice Longbottom were attacked violently by the Dark Lord_. She used to blame Neville for everything, scolding him that he is responsible for his parents' insanity. She didn't even let Neville see them at St. Mungo's until now. She knew the truth that Frank and Alice wanted, with an upmost desire to protect their son—but she would never admit the boy's innocence. The flickering of fire reminded Augusta of herself, always feeling mixed and unpredictable.

_Neville, forgive me. I am so sorry, I have been sorry to you for so long but too ego to admit. Don't leave me alone when I am in the verge of my death. I hope you understand that an elder's heart is a fragile and complicated thing to understand. I am so sorry… __**we**__ love you…_

She trailed off from her deep thoughts and sobbed silently, lamenting herself to her sleep.

* * *

The dead leaves scattered on the ground, blown from a nearby apple tree. The tree was only consisting of its etiolated main trunk, branches and thin twigs with few leaves left. The live of the ephemeral tree would end soon. There was nothing appealing that can make you feel concerned about the tree—no leaves, short in height and no fruits at all. Of all these things, why did Neville love the apple tree very much?

He picked one of the dead leaves from the ground and clutched it tightly in his hand with much determination and mumbled some spells. After a few moments, he opened his hand and a wide grin spread on his face—it worked. The leaf turned green and fleshy, as if the health was restored to its fullest. Neville smiled proudly because of his own achievement; after the entire doleful and arduous search of suitable spell and how to master it—he did it. Neville Longbottom, the _Squib_ (or so he is called) did a very wonderful job of performing magic.

He was very elated that he did not realise a girl was approaching his beloved tree. Her waist-length dirty blonde hair swayed against her back as she ran towards the dead apple tree. Her bright face and the gleam of her silvery eyes were full of enthusiasm and delight. She was strangely sweet in scent, perhaps because of the _real _flowers that decorated and bordered near the end of her bright laser-lemon coloured dress.

"Oh," she said when her eyes met Neville's. "I never expect that this tree would have its owner." She said this in a soft, sing-song voice. Neville blushed and stuttered, "N-no. It's not mine. I-I am just… err… v-visiting… yes, that's it—visiting this tree."

The girl's light chuckle made Neville nervous. _Neville Longbottom, no wonder Augusta hates you. You're dumber than a cow_. _You're stupid, idiotic, brainless person ever lived. You can't even lie. _He cursed himself with the foulest word he could ever think of until the girl, without any hesitance declared between her chuckles, "I like you."

Neville flustered. He didn't know how to react—no one ever said the word 'like' to him, the portentous word that he ravenously craved for so long. Augusta never even said the word 'like' or 'love' to him. He felt that his presence was appreciated and he was at least worthy to live in this world. The only problem was, he didn't know how to react—should he reply 'I like you' back? Or remain silent is better until the girl starts off a new conversation? Should he say 'thank you'?

"T-thank you…?"

Saying 'I like you' didn't bother the girl at all, she just said it freely and casually like it was nothing. Perhaps she was used to be loved, unlike Neville—his grandmother hated him so much that she won't even let him to call her 'Gran' like the others call their grandparents. While Neville was lost in his own thoughts, the girl looked at Neville's hand; the fleshy leaf was still in his grasp. "Magic," she murmured, but enough to attract Neville's attention. "You're not here to visit this tree, are you?"

After a very long awkward pause, Neville decided to sit down by the tree, followed by the Blondie who later sat next to him. He remained silent and took a handful of the dead leaves and turned it into beautiful, fresh ones. "What do you think I'm doing here?"

The girl fondled the coarse texture of the leaf. "You _love _this tree."

"How could you be so sure about that?"

"I can detect whether someone is being honest or not," she said, "And you're a bad liar."

Neville scoffed.

The girl ignored his scoff and turned to face him. That was when Neville realise how perfect her appearance is. "Why don't you mend this tree? You know how to do magic."

She just hit the most sensitive part of Neville's life. Despite being born into a powerful wizarding family, Neville appeared to have inherited only a little magical ability. It was even feared he might be a _Squib, _just like what his 'friends' say. He awed his grandmother's magical skills and _maybe_ his parents too. He neverknew his parents or seen them. What Augusta told him when he asked about his parents was, 'They are not like you.'

He was embarrassed to tell her that he was not capable of doing magic. He summoned all of his courage and began, "I…"

"Why don't we mend it together?" she interrupted with a sudden, loud exclamation. "You can teach me the spell."

Neville stared at the ephemeral apple tree. It would be a lie if he never thought of that, but his abilities to do magic were very limited, _terribly_ weak and disabling him to do so. He turned her gaze towards the girl's silvery-blue eyes and felt that he was trapped in a deadlock. Her sidelong glance was contorted in a way that as if she was challenging and daring him to heal the tree.

"'Love and trust is the key to keep those you care about together when the world tears them apart. Follow your heart, create your own destiny and you will not despair'," the girl softly persuaded. "That is what my father always said to me. 'Overcome your greatest fears. Stick with your own belief and passion and never let anyone let you down'."

Neville started to admire her. She was so honest and kind, unlike the 'friends' he had. Should he trust her? "Do you think you and I can do it? _Together_?"

The girl smiled, showing the dimples on her cheek and nodded. "Yes."

Teaching the girl a basic spell was not a waste, she could regain the health of a bunch of scorched leaves in just one try. She was intelligent in the weirdest way, Neville remarked.

* * *

Augusta Longbottom was preparing lunch until she spotted that Neville wasn't at home. She could hurt Neville's feelings in the most fatal way, but never did Neville run away from home. That thought sprung her mind. _A runaway?_ Her heartbeat became faster; she _was_ worried about Neville although no affections were shown directly towards him. She tried not to care but then she found herself went to search for him, even in the cupboard—the place where Neville commonly cried. _For goodness' sake! Neville Longbottom, where are you? _She wondered vigorously.

She stopped and looked out through the window when she could see Neville with a blonde haired girl under the dead apple tree. His arm extended to the tree so that he could touch the bark. The girl did the same, but at the opposite side of the tree, a solemn expression on her face. There was a moment when you could see a white sparks from the tree and then, very suddenly, the damaged roots of the apple tree became a well-developed one, the magic continuing its way to the tree's trunk—straightened with a greater strength to hold many of its branches. There were a lot of leaves, especially the dark-coloured ones. The best part was, it grew out apples; the fruit that the tree never produced for such a long time. Augusta's worried expression became relaxed; her smile was very pleasant and full of such tenderness, just like a downy quill of feather.

Neville couldn't believe his eyes. He beamed at the girl, "We did it!" Never in his entire life had he felt this happy. Not only had he made his first friend, his dream to heal the apple tree had also come true. The girl shrugged, "_You_ did it. I didn't do anything at all."

Neville's grin slowly faded. He didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

The girl plucked an apple and took a bite. "This apple's nice," she praised, passing them to Neville as if asking him to have a taste of it too. Neville was utterly confused, because he blurted, "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You don't have enough confidence within yourself."

Neville's ears reddened because of the girl's honesty about himself. "Y-you…"

The girl laughed genuinely and articulated, "You've done it on your own, isn't that great?"

Neville paused, thinking and then decided to agree. He nodded.

The atmosphere began to become awkward when there was a long appalled silence between Neville and the girl. Neville cleared his throat and clarified, "Erm… I'm Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. You are…?"

The girl's silvery eyes glinted, "Nice to meet you Neville Longbottom. I thought you're never going to ask me about my name, I'm…"

If only the girl had finished her sentence, because, unfortunately, she didn't. She was called by her father just about time when she could tell him her name. He really wanted to know her.

Neville captured the glimpse of her, running towards a man with a lean figure until they were gone using the Floo Powder. _She is not from here_. _How will I ever meet her again?_

* * *

**This is my first fanfic. Be nice to me. To grammar-nazis out there, please don't complain—give me a break! English is not my native language, got it? By the way, please review. I want to improve my writings. This story is not complete yet, OK? :) **


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